


guaranteed

by alexavindr (orphan_account)



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Canon-Compliant, Charles You Will Be Drunk, Gay Mutant Road Trip, M/M, Poor Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 03:08:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8354539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/alexavindr
Summary: Charles keeps coming on to Erik drunk. Erik's not sure how much more he can physically take.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this a while ago under a different, name, but since ~~i'm an attention whore and this got no attention~~ it was under a collection of things I never added to I decided to make it its own one-shot.
> 
> It's not incredibly polished, but idc.

“If you like giving blowjobs then just fucking... just do it mate, just do it, just give a blowjob, who cares?” Charles slurs, jabbing his finger at Erik’s chest. He laughs, a deep _‘ahumm’,_ and his fingers travel upwards towards the hem of Erik’s turtleneck, the tips brushing against the sensitive skin of his throat, just where he's imagined Charles biting him with his straight, white teeth. “I certainly do not.”

“Well, you’re drunk at the moment, so I can say with absolute certainty you don't care about anything _but_ blowjobs.” Erik grabs Charles’ wandering hand and shoves it back in the direction of Charles’ bar stool. _Where it belongs,_ he tries to tell himself, _not on my skin, not anywhere on or near it at all…_

Like Erik truly thinks that, anyway. With him and Charles being in such close proximity for the past month and a half, it was _bound_ to happen. Erik being attracted, that is. More specifically, attracted while he's sober. Charles doesn't seem to show any attraction without alcohol in his system, but when that alcohol _is_ in him, Erik could probably do anything to him. Unfortunately, there are several problems with this, and Erik doesn't have the heart to point them out or exploit them.

If he did go beyond wishing, especially if it was with Charles when he was drunk, there would be _no_ second time. Erik knows that much. Besides, during the day, Charles is straighter than a lamppost. It's good for him that he was born into society's mold - white, rich, straight, educated - but it isn't _Erik's_ mold - queer -  and it's driving him insane. While he's drunk and it's illegal to be with him is the only time he can actually _be with him._ It's wrong. Erik hates it.

There's nothing he can do but wish.

“I’m just saying,” Charles pauses for dramatic effect, giving time for Erik to come back to reality, where Charles has a smirk rising on his full pink lips, “That you should be able to do whatever the bloody hell you want. When you want. Whatever you want, whenever.”

“Go ahead, suck off everyone in the entire bar, I don’t care,” says Erik, breath shuddering. That’s an image - Charles on his knees, his red lips wrapped around a faceless stranger's cock… He shuts his eyes, _hard,_ and thinks of the Nazis and their blood that's been spilled on his hands. (It's not pleasant, but it at least gets the job done; the arousal fades away.) Charles’ foot is traveling up and down his leg, now, a light touch that’s driving him mad with want, or anger, jealousy, he can’t tell - “Charles, I don’t–-Gott, stop it, please, we're in public, someone will _see."_

The foot slowly trails down his calf hits the wooden stool with a dull thump. "You're no fun," Charles accuses. He stands up, wobbling for a second before placing his hand on the bar for balance. "Why won't you let yourself have fun for once? With me no less. I'm _fun._ Lots of fun. Guaranteed."

_I'd have_ 'fun' _with you if it weren't only once,_ Erik thinks after making sure his mental shields are high. When he's drunk, Charles' control tends to slip wildly, and while he's probably trying harder to get into his pants than his mind at the moment, it's better safe than sorry.

"I'm sure you are," Erik says instead. "We should probably get you back to the hotel. You're going to fall over any second."

"I won't if I'm on my knees." Charles looks Erik straight in the eye and licks his lips, spit gleaming in the low yellow light of the bar. Erik bites the inside of his cheek to prevent the strangled whimper from escaping his mouth.

Erik shivers and grabs his jacket off the bar stool. "Let's go. It's getting late, anyway."

With a sigh, Charles pulls on his coat as well, pays for their drinks, and lets Erik lead him outside.

They're silent for a while, which is odd, considering that Charles is still drunk, even if his spirits are a bit bogged down by Erik's rejection. That usually doesn't stop him; Erik knows for a _fact_ that it doesn't. Actually, since there's no one around, Erik's surprised that Charles isn't climbing his torso. He's not sure what he wants at this point: for Charles to take him like he's wanted him to do for months, or for him to remain in control and be able to talk their feelings out like rational adults later.

Because if Charles does so much as kiss him, Erik won't be able to do the latter whatsoever at _all_ until the morning after, and he has a feeling that conversation wouldn't be very pleasant, or long for that matter.

But since Charles is Erik's friend - and will always be his friend, just his friend - he has to speak up and ask.

"Are you all- _umphhhh...!"_ Erik's question is muffled by Charles' mouth on his and the telepath forcefully shoving him into a nearby alley. Panic and arousal flare up simultaneously in his mind, a confusing cocktail of emotions that make Erik's head spin. _Fuck fuck fuck no oh god fuck yes please no this is bad oh oh oh that's his_ tongue, his mind shouts and moans. Erik groans slightly into the kiss and around the tongue that's been the source of all his masturbatory fantasies lately; the kiss he so desperately doesn't want to want.

He pushes Charles back, his own body fighting his mind, but he manages it. The other man looks up at him with his blue eyes blow black with lust, his cherry red lips even redder in color from their lewd kiss shared just moments before. He's panting, hands still clutching at the sides of Erik's leather jacket.

"But, you don't - " he tries. Charles pushes closer against him, their clothed erections pressing together in a delicious, searing moment of pressure. Erik has to lean away, biting his lip and steeling his mind. "You don't want--you're... _straight."_

“Oh Erik,” purrs Charles. His rogue finger is tracing just _barely_ inside the waistband of Erik’s trousers, summoning feverish goose flesh wherever it touches. “A man on his knees with a cock in his mouth--" Erik shivers "--is always going to want it there. Just because you see me with women doesn't mean I don't... appreciate, the allure of masculinity. And my friend, are _enticing."_

_Enticing,_ Erik's mind repeats giddily. _I'm enticing._

_You most certainly are, luv,_ purrs Charles' voice in his head. Erik's so punch-drunk on arousal and the glow of praise that he doesn't even realize that Charles is sifting through his memories with the caution of a toddler. _Oh, darling, you should've_ said.

Erik shivers, sending him the images of him with lipstick all over his neck, and his arms around random girls' waists. _How could I have?_

It's Charles' turn to wince, but the wince turns into a sly grin as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Erik's body a quivering, nearly-begging mess. 

"Let's not waste any more time, then, shall we?" Charles drops to his knees and looks up at Erik. "No straight man could do this to you, Erik, I assure you."

Erik believes him.


End file.
